Unnoticed
by Creative Clutter
Summary: It's a glorious day and Sansa is beckoned outside for a stroll in the sunlight.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: **_**Let's just pretend that The Hound had been staying in Winterfell for like a week or so leading up to the arrival of Joffrey early in Season One. Just playing around. Thoughts are much appreciated. Thank you!**

The air was warm and a soft yellow glow lay across Winterfell, tinting the trees and grass a brighter green and making the river that Sansa stood by sparkle prettily. Ever since discovering that Joffrey may soon be her darling betrothed, Sansa was unable to sit still and the glorious day had beckoned her out to the greenery. She had walked out and away from the buildings, escaping the company of others for just a little while.

Strolling the whole way alone, she headed down to the river with a sweet smile fixed across her dainty face, fantasising about her future days with Joffrey. She thought of the beautiful clothes she would wear and beauty of Kings Landing that she had begged her father to describe to her. Sansa felt positively blissful, as though the warm glow from the sun was filling her with pure joy and nothing, absolutely nothing, could touch her. Collecting pretty flowers along the way, there was not a single thing she didn't appreciate about her picturesque surroundings.

Holding a beautiful white flower, Sansa eventually emerged out into the clearing by the river, she let her eyes follow the butterflies dancing about and the birds soaring above the trees, occasionally dipping down at the river in pursuit of a fish. Sansa paused for a moment. She shut her eyes and promised herself she would never forget this perfect day. A day without troubles and with the absolutely heavenly prospect of a betrothal to Joffrey to look forward to. The sunny day reminded her of him, his yellow hair and brilliant eyes were vivid in her mind. With eyes closed she listened to the faint rustle of the trees in the light breeze, the songs of the birds and the buzzing and clicking of the insects around her.

Opening her eyes, an unexpected rush inhabited her, as though she had absorbed the sun's energy that beamed warmly down upon her, bathing her in its light. She wanted to see more, the world had proven so beautiful that day and she would not miss a moment of it.

Turning around towards the trees, Sansa tottered back along the leafy ground that was pleasantly spotted with specks of light peeping through the canopy above. Neck twisting left and right, she searched around her for a tree with plenty of sturdy branches. Sansa had never particularly been one to climb trees, it was entirely un-lady-like and she was disinclined to heights, but today was special and nothing would have persuaded her otherwise. Sansa was determined to see the world from the tree-tops - and nobody would have to know, it would be her special secret.

Stopping by a tree on the outskirts of the wood, Sansa examined its standard height and the simple branches calling to be climbed upon.

Taking a moment, she looked down at her lengthy blue dress and hesitated for a split second before hitching it right up above her knees, revealing her petticoat. She tucked the hem of her skirt into the bottom of her corset, hoping it would hold for now and with a firm grasp Sansa hitched herself up onto the first couple of branches.

The climbing quickly became rhythmic and she completely forgot herself in the course of it, almost thinking she was Bran for a strange and dreamy moment. Her heart would beat the rhythm and her limbs would pull her another bit closer to the top. She felt wild and impossibly free, forgetting her manners and the ways of a true lady that she had so often abided by. Her heart was soaring with anticipation and she drew ever closer to the top, closer and closer. As her hand reached out for the next branch, in a single split second, before she could grab onto something, her boot had lost its grip.

The world seemed to stop momentarily, as if everything were holding its breath.

She had been so caught up in her ascension that she had failed to notice the hem of her dress break loose from under the grasp of her corset. Her body became rigid, but her limbs became loose and wobbly as her heart pounded a thousand beats per second with shock. She began scrambling and clawing at the bark to regain her grasp, but with a whoosh of her blue dress and a scream that got caught in the back of her throat, unable to be let out, she was plummeting towards the ground.  
A pang of pain rippled through her body, but not the kind of pain that comes with a thud and a broken leg on the ground, it was a sharp pain, a bruising in her side and upper arm.

"Trying to fly, Little Bird?" A gruff voice asked in an almost nonchalant manner.

Blinking away the shock of the moment she stared blankly back at a dark face, shrouded by stringy black hair. For a moment she meant to scream. His face was as gruff as his voice, with light stubble shadowing his jaw and - an almost impossible sight – his face was only half formed. A terrible mess served as the right side of his face. _He ought to cover it up, _Sansa thought. Yet, as she stared back at him, mouth agape, she detected a soft, camouflaged smile that hid beneath the surface. His dark eyes were illuminated a little and his mouth was curved at the edges, twisting his distorted side ever so slightly, but it lifted his cheek bones faintly which rounded off his face. And Sansa found in the most unlikely of people a feeling of comfort.

With an unanticipated gentleness, the large stranger lowered her feet back onto the ground, letting her grasp onto him before her wobbly legs caved in. As Sansa regained her stance, she stared wide-eyed into the face high up above her. To look still made her afraid, but she could not look away either.

"I – um, well I…" Sansa took a breath and curtsied, "Thank you, kind Ser." Her manner's felt strange, like putting on an old pair of boots that hadn't been worn in a while and were becoming too small.

"Save your Ser's for another who deserves it." He scoffed in return "You can just call me Hound." Her face twisted into distaste at such a title. "All right, Sandor, then." He stated finally.

Sansa, shaking, was becoming more aware of her surroundings and her body. She placed her hand at her rib, feeling a tender bruise where Sandor's armour had dug in. Still, it was better than a broken leg.

"Why don't we get you back to Winterfell." He indicated the way ahead.

As they headed back to the castle in silence, Sansa couldn't help but realise the incredibility of his timing. Had he been a second later, he would instead be carrying her home and she would have much explaining to do to her family.

"If you don't mind-"  
"It was lucky-"  
They both began at the once, stopping awkwardly to allow the other to speak first. Sansa remained silent, still somewhat intimidated by his demeanour.

"Lucky for you," Sandor continued, "that I noticed you skipping off into the woods alone." Fearful his intentions may be misinterpreted, he continued, "I didn't mean to follow you, but no one had seen you go and if something had happened to you, well, you would have been in trouble then, with no one to help you or know where you were." His voice remained gruff and Sansa smiled a little at the sweet heart he was trying so hard to cover up. "You shouldn't go wandering off into the woods alone, even on a day such as this." Sandor's gaze remained ahead, only peeking quickly and ever so slightly to the girl he was talking to.

Sansa felt her cheeks redden and she looked away shyly, not replying.

Arriving at the gates of her home, Sansa gave one last expression of gratitude. She considered planting a sweet kiss on his good cheek, but thought better of it.

"I cannot thank you enough, truly. I will ensure you are rewarded duly." Turning away from him, she grimaced at her words, thinking about having to tell her parents what had happened. He watched her return to the Stark's home. Lingering for a second, she swung back around to him. "H- How did you know where I lived?" Her voice was soft and timid.

"You don't think I know a Stark when I see one?" he replied, and as she turned away his face dropped, thinking how he had gone unnoticed all this time, yet he had never ceased to notice when she was around.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's note:_ I was struggling to come up with a second chapter that continued on with the last one, until I accidently came up with this. I figure I'll just tell you what I'm doing with it because it could be a while before the next chapter comes out (sorry, exams!). I've decided to switch in an out between Winterfell and Kings Landing. Kings Landing is the present, and each Winterfell chapter is a memory. There will be parallels between each chapter and memory.  
If you have any ideas/requests regarding the story please don't hesitate to let me know. I need all the inspiration and help I can get! And advice, criticism and praise are all needed to get the story going. Thank you!**

"Are you even _fucking_ listening to me, you little _bitch_?" Spit launched from his thin and twisted lips, landing very nearly on her face, but she did not move an inch.

Sansa's stoic state only enraged Joffrey the more. She did not flinch, she did not cry, she did not answer, she did not blink. Her mind was elsewhere, somewhere the pain did not exist.

"Ser Meryn," the name spilled from his mouth with such ease, such practise.

The solid force collided with her soft cheek and as she was knocked from her reverie, Sansa let out but a breath, nothing more. As she lifted her head gradually, a sharp and intense pain ringing over her, Sansa glanced around at her wretched reality. Joffrey let out a snide scoff at her unresponsive behaviour and turned on his heels, leaving the room with his small entourage of Kings Guard following shortly behind. Not Sandor however, he must have been elsewhere.

Sansa could still see Joffrey's burning eyes glaring into her, his stark hair and his slender figure, slouched over as he fondled the handle of his sword, silently threatening to pull it from its holster at any minute. _How?_ How in the seven kingdoms had her life come to this? All she could dream of in Winterfell was Kings Landing, now all she could dream of was home.

"We all want what we cannot have," she let herself say aloud, eyes heavy and head still burning from the blow.

"I could not have said it better myself," a gentle voice replied, and Sansa watched Shae from the corner of her eye, who was preparing a wet cloth for her to place on her cheek.

Shae pulled up a stool and sat in front of Sansa, placing the cool cloth gently on her reddened cheek with a loving smile. Sansa held the cloth in place while they sat in silence. There was nothing to say. '_Things will get better.' 'Not to worry, it will all be over soon'…_Nothing to be said would be true. But Shae's silent consolation was the best thing in Sansa's life at the moment. If only she knew how to thank her.

Sansa spent the rest of the day dosing in bed to the golden hue that bathed her chambers. Lunch had already passed and she would not be needed again until dinner was served, so she lay in bed praying that her laziness would not be known and she could forget her duties as a lady for a while. She lay, listening to the soft breeze as it carried the distant sounds of the city in through her window in placid gusts. As her shade cloths moved inward with the force of the breeze, so too did the hums and echoes of the capitol.

Her eyes opened to darkness. The soft, calming voices of the city people had vanished, the breeze had grown cold and the warm and soothing golden glow from the sunlight had gone as if it had never been. Sansa felt completely disorientated as she awoke from her sleep confused, remembering why she didn't take naps. Sansa wasn't sure what day it was or what time or how long she had been sleeping. It was hard to tell anything at this point and she was dazed and unsettled, her head heavy. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, hugging her arms around her chest and trying her best to remember herself.

Putting a hand to her cheek, she slowly began to recall.

"Nobody called me for dinner?" She thought aloud. Perhaps she had already had dinner, but forgotten or perhaps it was a different day entirely.

Sansa pulled her feet from beneath the covers and let them settle on the elaborate fabric rug that lay beneath her bed before making her way to the window. _It must be well into the night,_ she assessed. Then, in nothing but her white night gown and bare feet, Sansa made her way to the door and into the halls of the castle. She felt uncomfortable from her confusing nap and decided to walk around for a while.

_What had I dreamt of? _She could not recall her dream but it somehow lingered in the back of her mind, hiding just out of reach. Her steps were soft on the cold stone walkways, she did not have to worry about being quiet - it was in her nature already. As she moved around the silent castle in the night, she was numb to the cold, but the darkness was unnerving. Sansa had always imagined walking through the castle at night and how peaceful it would be, but it proved different to her expectations. It was decidedly more eerie and disconcerting.

Slowly, her memory came to and she began to remember, giving Sansa some reassurance to her gradually distressed state. The night tricked her with its shadows and its sounds and she was not sure whether she was alone any longer. Unintelligible images from her dream flashed in her mind, calling on her to remember, but Sansa was never good at recollecting her dreams.

Sansa began to think about her day, recalling each moment; _waking_, _dressing, breakfast, Ser Meryn's hand, attending the court, Ser Meryn's hand, lunch, a walk in the gardens, writing a letter, Ser Meryn's hand. _A thought from earlier in the day circled in her mind. _Not to worry, it will all be over soon. It will all be over soon. It will all be over. _Of course it wouldn't, but the tormenting words revolved in her mind and Sansa expected herself to cry. She waited for the despair to take over as she thought about her never ending hell. She waited for the feeling of a trembling lip or tears in her eyes. She waited, but they did not come. Sansa was truly numb, she felt lifeless and hopeless all in one.

She looked around for a familiar sight, but wandering the castle in the dull of night had cost Sansa her bearings. Everything seemed unfamiliar and the shadows felt closer and the noises in the dark felt louder. There was an archway ahead which lead out to a balcony overseeing the gardens. She darted through the archway, soaking in the fresh air and the rustling of the garden leaves.

Pressing her hands onto the stone balustrade, she leant over letting her long auburn hair fall by her head as she surveyed the garden below. Sansa could feel her heart pumping in her chest and with every few beats, the vision of her dream drew closer, beckoning her.

"Winterfell, Lady, darkness," she recalled of her dream, "Joffrey's menacing eyes. The tall turrets of Kings Landing towering over me. A ledge." Sansa appeared unnervingly motionless and serene, though on the inside a storm was brewing. She raised one leg and then the other onto the smooth stone of the balcony barrier, swinging them round until she was sitting on top, completely exposed to the land below. Sansa tipped her head back absorbing the fresh night air and breathing in the freedom of the world ahead. _It will all be over soon. _

Calmly, she slipped her feet down onto the tiny bit of balcony poking past the barrier. As she stood dreamily with her back leaning against the stone that her hands gripped onto, she felt another hand on her shoulder, surprising her into letting go and falling forward - but not as she had planned.

Before she could drop, a hefty arm wrapped itself around her waist and she was dragged back up again.

"Trying to fly Little Bird?" a voice echoed as she was pulled backward.

Sansa looked shamefully back up at Sandor, knowing he would disapprove of her obvious agenda.

She was sure she had heard him say those words before, exactly as he had said them then. _Perhaps I had dreamt them. _

His hands were strong and gentle and they guided her back into the dark walkways of the castle. He said nothing and didn't seem to be disappointed in her after all. Sansa still didn't feel like crying, but the tears came nonetheless, ignoring her internal pushes and pleas for them to stop. She choked and sobbed as they walked and his hand remained gently on her back even as he knocked on the wooden door they eventually arrived at.

As they waited for an answer, Sandor looked down to her.

"It's alright now, Little Bird," he consoled her quietly, "You'll be alright yet."

Sansa blinked up at him with burry eyes that, from his point of view, were shining with tears.

_Thank you. _She meant to say, but was mute for the time being. She was thankful for the comfort, she knew that, but pulling her back - for that she could not yet discern if she was truly grateful.

The door inched open slightly and tired brown eyes stared back at them suspiciously before the door opened wider. Shae, clutching a blanket to herself peered back at them worriedly.

"Found her on a ledge. Maybe she was just sleepwalking, I don't know," Sandor stated in a hushed tone.

Shae instantly took Sansa by the arms and looked comfortingly into her eyes before removing her blanket and wrapping it around the shivering girl in her night dress.

"I wasn't really going to," Sansa's voice was almost inaudible.

Shae stared up at Sandor with concerned eyes. Eyes that were speaking to him, begging him.

"Look," he reassured, "I won't tell if you don't," and with that he turned on his heels with a final nod of goodbye and walked away into the shadows, leaving Sansa in the loving arms of her Handmaiden - the only thing in Kings Landing that reminded her of home.

**Author's note: If this was shit and disappointing, anticlimactic or you didn't like it for other reasons, please tell me!**


End file.
